


I Want Statements

by chase_acow



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Recovering, First Time, Just Add Kittens, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Steve Rogers, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 01:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/pseuds/chase_acow
Summary: “His therapist suggested he work on his ‘I want’ statements,” Steve explained in a stage whisper once he and Sam finally crossed paths in the kitchen. “You don’t have to do whatever, but it’ll help him start to think about his preferences and then practice verbalizing them. Maybe, be nice to him, okay?”“You know he still has super hearing, right?” Sam pretend whispered back, rolling his eyes as the blush conquered Steve’s face. “Anyway, Sam Wilson does not acquiesce to anything Sam Wilson does not want to acquiesce to.”“I want to sit in here now,” Bucky said, slouching to the table and aggressively sitting down in the corner. He glared at Steve until the other man ducked his head and shuffled out.“Damn right, you do,” Sam agreed, handing over the sudoku and flicking a pen at Bucky’s face.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Second time's the charm? *crosses fingers* Again, please let me know where I messed up, and thank you to everyone who did so last time.

“I want breakfast for dinner.” 

Sam slowly peeked over the sports section that he was finally getting the chance to read so he could see who was speaking. The problem was, it sure sounded like one James Buchanan Barnes, recently escaped Hydra Asset and current thorn in Sam’s ass. However, in the three months they’d been roommates, Sam hadn’t heard the other man put so many words together. 

“Say again?” Sam asked, giving Bucky his undivided attention. 

Bucky scowled, but stood his ground. “I want breakfast for dinner,” he said again, glaring at the window above the sink. Definitely not through it, there was palpable angst leveled at that pane of glass. “I can do the pancakes.” 

Thinking about it, Sam couldn’t find a good reason not to. Three grown men and one bathroom made mornings a little hectic. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a real breakfast meal. “Okay,” he agreed, folding the paper up so he could get back to the disappointment of RGIII later. “I’ll scramble some eggs, and I think there’s some frozen sausage somewhere. That sound all right?” 

Bucky nodded, apparently having used up his quota of words for the day. 

 

# 

 

“I want to grow my hair out long again.” 

Sam very subtly backtracked to the open bathroom door and peeked in. Steve and Bucky were huddled together over the sink on the far side of the narrow room. 

“I wanted to try, but it’s not. . .” Bucky let out a long breath, his fingers twisted in the slightly longer strands on top of his head. “I think I like it long now.” 

Later, Sam offered without looking up from his work, “One of the guys at the office also co-owns a barbershop. He can probably get you through that awkward middle stage of growing your hair out without it looking like somebody plopped a bowl on your head as a guideline.” 

Bucky didn’t say anything, but he managed to get through another episode of Mythbusters before he retreated to his bedroom, formerly known as Sam's office, to do whatever it was he did in there alone for sixteen hours a day. 

Thank God he wasn’t a teenager, Sam’s washer was on its last legs and his favorite appliance store moved after the Triskelion Incident. 

 

# 

 

“His therapist suggested he work on his ‘I want’ statements,” Steve explained in a stage whisper once he and Sam finally crossed paths in the kitchen. “You don’t have to do whatever, but it’ll help him start to think about his preferences and then practice verbalizing them. Maybe, be nice to him, okay?” 

“You know he still has super hearing, right?” Sam pretend whispered back, rolling his eyes as the blush conquered Steve’s face. “Anyway, Sam Wilson does not acquiesce to anything Sam Wilson does not want to acquiesce to.” 

“I want to sit in here now,” Bucky said, slouching to the table and aggressively sitting down in the corner. He glared at Steve until the other man ducked his head and shuffled out. 

“Damn right, you do,” Sam agreed, handing over the sudoku and flicking a pen at Bucky’s face. 

 

# 

 

“I want you to touch me more,” Bucky said to the one houseplant they hadn’t managed to kill, as Sam walked through the front door. “Casually, but maybe also with affection. Sometimes. If you feel like it.” 

“Okay,” Sam said, hanging his jacket up in the closet. On his way by to his room, he paused to squish Bucky’s cheeks together until he made the most unfortunate pair of duck lips Sam had ever seen. 

 

# 

 

The front door slammed hard enough to rattle the glasses in the dish drainer. The pair of them were usually much more careful with their strength since the death of Sam’s knick-knack cabinet. He made it to the hallway in time for Bucky to slam into his shoulder and then continue out of sight without slowing down. 

“What happened?” Sam asked, rubbing what was probably going to be a deep set bruise. 

“Um, the lady who runs the petting zoo area at the sanctuary is apparently not as much of a push over to Bucky’s wants as we are,” Steve said, mostly holding his snickering back until the end. 

Sam fixed him with an unimpressed eyebrow and shifted his lips to the side. 

“Sam, we can’t have a lion cub,” Steve sobered, “I’m pretty sure the neighborhood association would kick us out.” 

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Fine,” Steve said, slumping as if he’d just gone through nine rounds instead of five seconds of silent treatment. “I’m in. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be mauled to death.” 

 

# 

 

“Hey, Buck,” Sam tossed the hoodie he’d worn around the house on Bucky’s bed as an offering. “You want to come for a walk with me?” 

“I guess.” 

Sam smiled, waiting while Bucky pulled the sweatshirt over his head. “That’s the genuine spirit of adventure we all know and love,” he said, laying his hand on the small of Bucky’s back as they went through the door. 

They didn’t worry about Bucky out in public; his reactions to things that startled or triggered him always tended to quiet compliance. It broke Sam’s heart more than anything, though he completely understood the rage that crept up Steve’s backbone. Walking down the street was harmless, the bus ride took a little more concentration, but once Sam lifted his arm and Bucky stepped into him, it was fine. 

He’d never have anticipated the reaction to the pet store. 

“Really?” 

While almost anyone else might have missed it, Sam was a pro by now at listening to Bucky, and that was definite giddiness. 

“Yeah, really,” Sam agreed, holding the door open. “Whatever you want. This place is a front for the animal shelter, but they also rescue some exotics. I’m just saying, you happen to pick a bird, and I’m gonna teach that polly to curse every time Steve walks in the room.” 

“As fun as that would be,” Bucky trailed off, instantly distracted at the ball of mewing kittens in one of the larger playpens. 

“Hey Steve,” Sam called, holding his phone up while Bucky finished going through the paperwork with the lady at the front counter. “We’re getting a kitten.” 

 

# 

 

"I'm still not sure it was the right decision." 

Sam pulled a wing in and rolled to his left, avoiding a spray of bullets from the compound's automated defense system. "Look, you agreed, and you're already getting off light in the poop scooping department, so just deal with it," he said, snapping his wing out and pulling a sharp upstroke. 

"No, not the kitten," Steve said, despite the fact that he'd spent the entire van ride bemoaning the loss of his favorite running shirt to tiny kitty claws. He was somewhere down below, making entry while Sam and Nat kept everyone else occupied. "I mean Bucky. We shouldn't have left him home alone." 

"Pretty sure he's a big boy," Sam said, pulling his sidearm when he had a clear shot of the guard on the second floor landing. Three shots sent the man scurrying and the fourth put him down with a well-placed leg wound. 

An explosion rocked the compound south of Sam's position, so he quickly spiraled up, assessing the situation. Smoke, no obvious flames or structural damage, and only a few stragglers from Hydra's research station; it had probably been Nat. 

"Yeah, but-" 

"Steve, we gave him several choices and he picked," Sam said, locating Steve when he ran through a breezeway. Steve pinged his shield against the wall it ricocheted behind him taking out the three agent closing in before sliding right back into his hand. “Trust him that he knows best.”

"Yeah, but-" 

"You boys have time for a sitrep?" Nat asked, breaking in on the comm. 

Sam wheeled around, but nothing was shooting at him anymore. Whatever Nat had done, had shut it all down. The normal feds would be able to move in shortly. "What's up?" he asked.

"It's a bust," Nat answered, her voice calm even as in the background, he could hear the distinctive sounds of fist hitting flesh followed by an electrical current. "Rumlow was here for a week, moved out the day before yesterday."

"Great," Sam said, turning back to the meeting point.

"We'll get him, Sam," Steve said, full of confidence again.

"I do still owe him one," Sam agreed. 

 

#

 

“I want-”

Sam waited, but when nothing else came out, finished brushing his teeth and then rinsed his mouth out. “If you need the bathroom, Buck, you just gotta say,” he tugged his sweatpants up from where they slipped down his hips.

“That’s not,” Bucky shifted his shoulder as Pearl moved from right to left, trying to bat at a washcloth hanging on the shower rod. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“Hey,” Sam said, following Bucky to the hallway and gesturing to his bedroom. He shut the door behind them. “Even when I say no, I ever make fun of you?”

"Well you definitely didn't like the trampoline park idea," Bucky said, setting the kitten down on the recliner by the window.

Sam walked over to rub Pearl under her chin. "That was more for budgetary reasons than an unwillingness to watch you and Steve literally bounce off the walls. I can't afford to replace all the springs you'd break when you got competitive with each other," he said, trying not to let his breath hitch when Bucky put a hand on his bare shoulder. "So, spill."

"I want," Bucky took a deep breath, "I want you to want me."

"Are we talking want, like, in the biblical sense?" San asked slowly, trying to judge Bucky's body language. Everyone needed to touch people, he'd decided early on not to assume Bucky meant anything more than what he'd asked for, casual affection.

"Yeah, that," Bucky said, shoving his hands in his pockets while he watched Pearl curl up and promptly fall asleep. "I want to sleep with you and wake up with you. I want to touch your stomach, and I wanna know what you sound like when you come." 

There wasn't much wiggle room in that. Sam glanced down at himself, shirtless with an old pair of sweats that'd seen their best days long ago. "This belly?" he asked, rubbing down the hard planes of his stomach. If flying had done anything to him it was weaponizing his abs. Bucky watched as his fingers drifted lower, but then he shook his head and took a step back.

"You're making fun of me," Bucky said. 

"I'm really not," Sam said, following in Bucky's steps until he was close enough to pull Bucky's hand out from his hoodie and place the palm flat on his stomach. "I figured we could start ticking off your list."

Bucky traced Sam's muscles, twisting his hand to trail his knuckles down the band at Sam's hips. "What do you want?" He asked, wrapping his metal arm around Sam's back and smirking at his shiver. 

"I want," Sam paused, thinking, he wanted a lot of things. He wanted his friends safe and sound, he wanted to hear Rumlow's bones snap beneath his heel. He wanted to fly without the chance of getting shot down. He wanted to see his cock disappear down Bucky's throat. "I want to pull your hair, I want to be the little spoon. I kinda want to take you to the office Christmas party," Sam really did, both for the chance to sneak a public kiss and the hilarity of stuffing Bucky in the ugliest sweater he could find. "I want to lick your neck." 

"I want all that too," Bucky said, sliding his hips closer and leaning in. They kissed, and maybe it was chaste for that first heartbeat, the initial slide of lip to lip, but then Bucky pressed his palm to Sam's cheek and tilted them just enough. 

Bucky's mouth was warm, and his tongue slid against Sam's seeking permission before leaving Sam a gasping wreck. He let Sam down gently on the bed, and then somehow managed to bellyflop down on top of him. 

"Oof," Sam curled up, shifting Bucky over so they were on their sides facing each other. He had one of Bucky's thighs trapped between his own. "It's a good thing you're pretty." 

"That all I am to you? A pretty face?" Bucky asked, taking Sam's hand and pressing it to the front of his pants. 

"A pretty face, a survivor, a good friend," Sam answered, slipping his hand inside Bucky's jeans. "If I'm lucky the guy who's gonna fuck me in the next few minutes." 

"I am just going to turn my music up as loud as possible while on a completely unrelated note, using Sam's Amazon account to buy noise cancelling headphones," Steve shouted from the other side of the wall. Music blared for a second before being cut off. "Also I can't believe you're doing that in front of a baby. Shame on you." 

The music turned back on and Sam collapsed in helpless laughter against Bucky's chest. 

"Fuck super hearing," Bucky grinned, pulling Sam on top of him as he rolled to his back. 

"Fuck me," Sam said instead, licking a hot stripe up Bucky's neck.


End file.
